


I'm Not Exactly A Role Model

by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch



Series: When Mary Met Cas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awesome Mary Winchester, Bottom Dean, Bunker Fluff, Caring Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel is Not Oblivious, Coda, Dean Being Dean, Dean Talks About Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Gabriel Lives, Gabriel in the Bunker, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Masturbation, Men of Letters, POV Dean, Phone Sex, Post-Season/Series 11, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/pseuds/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary is alive and makes the bunker her home. With his mom being back and joining their hunting life, Dean faces a few thruths about his past and present that he refrained from acknowledging for a long time. How much Cas means to him for example. Meanwhile in Britain: Sam makes a discovery in the MoL headquarters and returns home with an old aquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote a second chapter to ["To Perch On Your Shoulder"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7378249), but since the rating will change and the story progresses I thought it best to make it a new work.
> 
> I'm [@procasdeanating on tumblr](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/post/157403443091/12x12-coda). Come say hi!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the end of _To Perch On Your Shoulder_ for those who haven't read it.
> 
> _“I love you, Dean. Not because I owe you or you owe me. Not because my father told me to. I love you more than my life and my family. And I want to see you happy. I always thought we could be that for each other – someone who made the other one happy. But we won’t change, will we? I will wait for you to see your worth and you will wait for me to leave you. It just doesn’t end.”_
> 
> _There was a tone in his voice Dean had never heard in it before. High and desperate and so full of anguish that it hit him like a physical blow. His hand reached out before he consciously decided to, gripping Cas’ shoulder and turning him around. He pulled Cas into a hug, because he hurt and that was the last thing Dean wanted. Their bodies melted into each other, like they had just waited to prove the words being said wrong -_
> 
> _When Dean looked up, he saw his mom, standing in the doorway. His first instinct was to pull back, making it look like a short embrace with a shoulder clap and something dudes would say. But he didn’t do any of that. This was Cas, and his mother should see that that made all the difference. Understanding dawned on her features. She nodded slowly and left the room._
> 
> _As turning points go, this wasn’t spectacular or clear cut or something that would make a fancy note in the history books. But in the warmth between them the anger and the doubts were forged into something else, in that moment, when Dean’s mother saw him like this._
> 
> _It wasn’t her acceptance that changed everything – it was his own._
> 
> _“Don’t go,” he whispered._
> 
> _“Never,” said Cas._

After a small eternity of just staying in each other’s arms, Dean had put distance between them. He wasn’t sure how to proceed from there and if he was ready to do that. So he had stroked Cas’ cheek in a gesture that should assure him something fundamental had changed – and because he felt he could do that now.

“I’m really tired. See you tomorrow?”

Cas had smiled, warm and a bit wistful.

“Yes. Good night.”

And that had been it. Breakfast this morning had played out with the minimal amount of speaking to each other. Cas had gone back to his room after that while Dean sat in the library with his mother, searching for two old books Sam had requested to be sent to him.

A few hours went by. Dean knew it was just a matter of time until Mary broke the silence.

„So you and the angel …“ She let the sentence drift off.

“Seems like,” Dean grumbled.

“Are you …” She straightened up. “It doesn’t change anything for me, just so you know.”

“You mean if I’m going through a sexual identity crisis right now? Let’s say Cas is not the first guy that had an effect on me.”

“So do you want to talk about it?” She held his gaze steady. An invitation.

“Holy hell, mom, is this going to be the talk about the birds and the bees, because honestly, that’s more than 20 years late.”

She chuckled. “No, I guess you got that figured out on your own. Lord, I hope so, because I really don’t want to have to explain sex to you.”

“Glad we’re on the same page here. Look, mom, the thing with him, it’s been brewing for a long time. And it’s complicated and there’s a mountain of issues to address I wouldn’t want to touch with a ten-foot-pole if I had the choice. The fact that he’s male … it’s not that it’s no issue at all, that would be a lie, but it’s the least of my problems at the moment.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut, unsure where that flood of words came from. Being around his mom seemed to mess with his usual filters.

“What about you? Are you okay with him being an angel now?”

“I guess it’s still a bit early to call it that.” A warm smile softened the sting of her words. “But I see that I have to accept that he’s a part of your live. And I am thankful for him saving your life over and over. I owe him the benefit of the doubt. Is that enough for you?”

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll grow on you if you give him the chance. He tends to do that.”

They sat together in companionable silence, flowing in and out of conversations, reading side by side. Every few minutes he glanced over to his mom, feeling a warm burst of happiness each time. He liked to think it was the same for her.

Dean was glad to have some time to think. He hadn’t been completely honest with his mom. He WAS having kind of a sexual crisis. There were three questions that ran circles in his head since the first time he saw Cas and got turned-on by his otherworldly power and the trust he put in him. Okay, when he put it like that, maybe only two questions, because he hadn’t have to ask himself if he wanted Cas in that way for a long time. The answer was yes, yes, yes, please.

Questions 2 and 3 were another matter: Did Cas want the same? And if so, was it a good idea to act on that? Those were the real issues here. Some days Dean was pretty sure about the answer to the second question. When Cas seemed like he couldn’t stop looking at Dean’s lips even if it was the only thing to prevent another apocalypse. Yeah, those days were equal parts terrifying and awesome. Problem was, if the answer was yes, and Dean would get that answer somewhere not very public, he was sure he wouldn’t stop to ask the third. But addressing the third without even knowing Cas’ stance on this felt wrong somehow. He roughly rubbed his hands over his face to clear his thoughts. Maybe …

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Nevermind.”

There was one and only one person he should discuss this with.

 

He stood in the doorway to Cas’ room like an idiot.

“Cas, you got a minute?”

“Sure, Dean.”

Silence.

“Look, ah, I wanted to talk to you …” The short burst of bravery and determination that had brought him here died a pitiable death right then.

“I’m hungry. You too? Let’s head out and get something to eat, alright?”

He turned and headed for the garage without looking back. When he sat in the driver’s seat and Cas wasn’t to be seen, the cold sweat intensified. Just great, he thought, you made a complete ass out of yourself.

A moment later the passenger door opened and Cas slid in.

Dean turned the ignition and drove out without another word.

 

They sat in a booth in their favorite burger joint, when Dean remembered his mom. He took his phone out meaning to call her, when Cas said, quietly, “I told her we had something to do and would be back later. She wants a salad, a bacon burger and fries.”

“That’s … really considerate of you.”

They sat. A waitress came to take their order.

She came back with drinks and went away again.

The silence stretched on.

“Dean. If this is about yesterday – there’s no reason to – we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

That was the most gibberish sentence Cas had ever uttered in his presence. And somehow it made Dean feel better about it all, knowing Cas was out of his depth on this just like himself.

“And how long should we go on like this? We need to talk. We waited too fucking long to have this conversation. I just want to get it over with, so we’ll do it rapid fire questions, okay?”

Cas only nodded.

“So here’s what I need to know: Do you plan to stay?”

“If you let me, yes.”

Ouch, that was unnecessary but Dean guessed he deserved it.

“With me?”

“I thought I made that clear.”

“Just pretend nothing is clear. Because it isn’t. Not for me.” Dean looked straight at Cas, making sure he got the message.

“Okay.”

“And when you say you want to be with me, does that entail …” Shit, he didn’t even know how to phrase it. A few questions in and his plan already sucked.

“A romantic relationship?” Cas pitched in.

“Yes.” A question.

“Yes.” No wavering in Cas’ voice.

“And…”

“A physical relationship?” Okay, Cas began to sound like he talked to a child here and it didn’t sit well with Dean, but whatever. They had to push through this and nobody said it would be pretty.

“Yes.” Angry and a bit embarrassed.

“Yes.” Sure and steady.

“So there’s that.” A blush crept up Dean’s neck, he could feel it. He knew how ridiculous he was behaving and at the same time he was absolutely unable to do anything about it.

A finger nudged under his chin.

“But if you prefer that, nothing has to change. I would never want for you to feel like you owe me something, okay?”

Dean chuckled. That was his line, dammit.

“No, it’s alright. I … I want that, too. And I know why I never told you that, but why didn’t you say something?”

“You are a complicated man, Dean Winchester.”

Cas leaned back onto the faux- leather seat that wore the lines and smudges of the decades like a badge of honor. It had every right to, in Dean’s book. This was a diner people loved for the food, not for its looks. In such a homey, ordinary setting, he tended to forget that Cas was millennia old and not human. He just looked like Cas, _his_ Cas, rumpled and with this constant sex hair that begged to have fingers in it. He wondered when that had changed, when he stopped to think about Cas as something _other_ and began to think of him as _his_. His thoughts were interrupted by said angel, when Cas fell into his story-time voice that he used when he explained something to Sam and Dean about lore or times long past. This time the subject was Dean himself. Well, he was about to get educated.

“The first thing you taught me about humans was how brave they are. I never really bothered to look in their minds, until I met you. The most astounding thing I learned was how different what you feel is from what you do. To be brave, I found, is to be terrified of something and doing it nonetheless. You do that all the time. Sometimes I heard your prayers: _Please don’t make me do this, please let there be someone else for this_. But you never ran, you never put the responsibility on someone else.”

“Thanks, I guess. But what’s that to do with everything?”

“Just hear me out, please. You had nightmares, Dean, a lot. You were calmer when I was around. I liked to think it’s because you feel safe with me. When I found out, I watched over you in your sleep. It was only later, when you told me, that it ‘creeps you out’ as you say, that I began to question your need and my reaction. I debated to accompany you in the nights without making myself seen. I did that actually for a while. But I soon learned that you value consent. Even if you long for something, you want to make up your mind about it on your own.”

“I have a feeling I know where this is going.”

Cas smiled.

“So even when you desire something so much that I can feel the longing like a physical ache, acting on it is a completely different thing. I stayed out of your head on your own request. But I’m not blind, Dean. I see your physical reactions. Your pupils dilate when our bodies get close, even in the middle of a hunt. Every single time we fought there was no denying the fact you were aroused. I can feel your need for me when you touch yourself. But all that may be instinct, hormones, stress and an involuntary reaction to our power dynamic. If you don’t _want_ to want it, it’s not my place to force it on you.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. All those times he thought he’d been subtle. And all those times he knew he hadn’t been subtle and hoped Cas wouldn’t register. And all those times he knew Cas had felt and seen proof of his want and he had been sure it wouldn’t make a difference because Cas wasn’t wired that way. Huh, he hadn’t time for a full inventory. But that had been a lot of moments. And he felt strangely raw about it. As if he wasn’t able to control himself and this was once again one-sided. He shifted in his seat, not meeting Cas’ eyes. Cas somehow knew what was wrong or he just wasn’t done with his speech, but he went on, never changing the tone.

“I told myself I had to wait for your consent. At first I didn’t even know what exactly happened when we were in close proximity. Your mother may be right about that. I wasn’t equipped to fully understand our reaction to each other, especially in times of emotional turmoil. For example when we fought in the alley I was shocked by my own anger and then under that something else came to life, something I was even more shocked to experience. I hadn’t been prepared for the feeling of your body so close. I didn’t know what it meant, why my vessel reacted so strongly. I controlled it, but barely. To this day it’s taking all my will not to reach out when I feel your longing. One should think I would get used to it. But it just got harder to find reasons why I shouldn’t. Don’t ever believe you were the only one tortured by your own restraint.”

Their eyes met.

Dean coughed. Because his throat became tight and he wanted to break the tension that had sprung up as soon as Cas had started to talk about dilated pupils and their power dynamic, whatever that meant. (He knew exactly what it meant, thank you very much, but he preferred to not acknowledge it right now.)

He cleared his throat, using the hidden amount of bravery Cas had mentioned to force the next sentences out.

“So, just for the record. When a moment like that comes up again, I would be okay with you… taking advantage of it.” Dean smirked but it felt crooked. This wasn’t just flirting and teasing with a potential hook-up. This was the beginning of something big. And he had never been so afraid to fuck up.

“Noted.”

Their burgers came. They ate in silence, stealing glances over the table.

Dean feared he would be too nervous to eat. But this was Cas and they had just rolled one of the bigger stones out of the way. It was nice and freeing and kind of ridiculous how happy he was just sitting here with his best friend and hopefully-soon-to-be-lover. The ball lay in Cas’ field and Dean didn’t feel the usual pressure to orchestrate the next steps.

He put himself in Cas’ hands. And it felt perfect.

They finished up, got Mary’s order and went out to the car. Dean put the food on the hood to take out his keys when he felt Cas’ warm presence at his back. He straightened but didn’t turn. Anticipation hummed through him like a living thing.

“Turn around.”

He did.

Cas was on him like a predator. One hand on his neck, the other on his hip. Possessive, determined. The lips on his were bruising, the door handle of the impala dug into his thigh and the angle was all kinds of subpar. All that didn’t change the fact that he had never been so turned on by a single kiss before. He groaned and clutched Cas’ head to angle it better, opened his mouth and licked the plush flesh under him until Cas opened too. There was nothing careful about the way Cas’ tongue pushed into his mouth. It was a claim being made, a promise of things to come. Dean was so on board for this. They were both breathing hard when he finally had the presence of mind to push Cas back a bit. When the angel growled at that, Dean’s dick twitched helplessly.

“My mom. The food,” was all he was able to say.

Cas seemed absolutely out of it, but then slowly came back to reality.

“Of course.”

He rounded the car, got in and stayed still for the rest of the drive. If Dean’s own experience was any indication, Cas spend the drive home willing his rock-hard erection down while fruitlessly trying to block out random thoughts about the activities out they would sure as hell be engaging in later that night. When they arrived at the bunker, he tucked his shirt over his crotch to make himself somewhat presentable, took the food containers and grumbled “my room” over his shoulder before running off to deliver the burger. Oh yes, this would be an interesting night.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call from Sam interrupts the plans for the evening.

Mary stood in the middle of the library, clearly waiting for him. Dean waved the bag with her food.

“Wow, are you that hungry …-“

“Your brother called. He found something … someone over there.”

Cas entered and stood by Dean’s side. He bumped Dean’s shoulder – seemingly innocent for everyone who didn’t know that nothing Cas’ body did was by accident. The short and small contact sent shivers down Dean’s spine. He closed his eyes for a second before concentrating on what his mother said.

“… told me it was an angel. And that Castiel should come to London as soon as possible.”

“That’s all he said?” Dean asked while Cas whipped his phone out and called Sam. He went to the kitchen talking urgently.

“He sounded so furious, Dean. I hope he doesn’t get himself in trouble.”

“Sam will be fine.” He rubbed his palms roughly over his face to try and clear his head. “I’m sure Cas can sort it out.”

Cas came back, looking stunned. “It’s Gabriel.”

“What? How?” Dean went over and put his hand on Cas’ shoulder because he looked like he would tumble over any second.

“Sam found him in one of the holding cells. He apparently lost his memory and has been captive there ever since. They all knew he was an angel but thought he was of a lesser rank. They didn’t treat him all that friendly but he seems to be in good condition – apart from his memory loss.”

Cas sat down heavily in one of the chairs, gaze distant.

“I’ll fly over there tonight. Sam already booked a flight for me.”

“I – I thought your grace…”

“My grace is back but my wings are permanently damaged.” Cas said that without any infliction. If Dean had needed proof how devastating the loss had to be for the angel, he had it now. He would ask him later about it but now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No, Dean. You should stay here with your mother. If something goes wrong, we shouldn’t all be in one place. We don’t know yet if we can really trust the Men of Letters. And I know how much you hate flying. Sam and I will be able to handle it on our own. We’ll bring my brother back. Would it be in order if he – “

“Of course he can stay here. I’ll prepare a room.”

Cas stood like an old man. Which he technically was.

“I really had other plans for tonight.” He shot Dean a crooked smile that held all kinds of secret promises. “But if it really is Gabriel and he’s alive and well … that would be wonderful.”

Dean went over and hugged Cas tightly.

“There will be another time for our plans. Go get your brother.”

 

Cas had been gone by midnight and Dean already missed him.

* * *

“I found us a case. I’m guessing werewolf but I’m not sure.”

They sat in the kitchen just after breakfast.

Dean gulped down his coffee and stuttered: “How do you even know to use the internet?”

“I watched you searching this news-page. You left it on yesterday so I tried the search function. It’s not that complicated, Dean. You write something in the field, use the button for the next line and tip on the left side of the oval remote when a headline seems interesting. I figured it out quite quick.”

She seemed smug. Dean was impressed. But his mom was a hunter after all, she had to be a fast learner – it was the only way to survive in this business.

“Do you really wanna hunt?” She had given up so much to keep her boys away from this life, why should she change her opinion now?

“I wanted you to be safe. I wanted a family and I wanted to keep John away from all this. He became a hunter and you and your brother followed him. There’s nothing I can do to change that. So we might as well be hunters together. And if I’m being honest – I’m getting cabin fever here.”

Dean was getting restless himself. With Cas and Sam gone he welcomed the distraction. His stomach knotted at the thought of putting Mary in danger, but at the same time he was confident that she knew how to handle a werewolf hunt just fine. A simple case, in and out, might just be the right thing to keep them occupied while they waited on news from England.

“Alright. What do you have?”

* * *

 

It turned out to be his favorite kind of case. A ten hour drive with a route that brought them to one of the best pie serving places he knew. While they waited for their slices – pecan for Dean, cherry for Mary – Dean checked his phone for news from Cas. He should have landed by now.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Mary’s voice was warm.

“Hmm-hm.”

“Dean, I know how that feels. Whenever John got to close to a hunt … I couldn’t even think about it.”

Dean looked up sharply, but kept his mouth shut.

“Do you … will you tell me someday?” She looked at him pleadingly.

Dean didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what she was asking.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.

“Everything. How did he get into the life? Why did he bring you two into it? How did he die?”

“There’s actually just one answer to that. Revenge. He was after Yellow Eyes. He followed the leads he left all over the country, and while he was at it, he hunted all the other monsters he came across. When we were young, we waited for him. When we got older, we helped. And then… and then he found him, Azazel, but instead of killing him he made a deal. To save my life.”

“So it’s all my fault.” She huffed a bitter sounding humorless laugh.

Dean reach over and took her hand, squeezing it till she met his gaze. “Don’t you ever think that, mom. You gave everything for us. John – he did good, helped making the world a safer place.”

She nodded, but he knew she wasn’t believing it.

“You make it sound like he was a hero.”

“I thought he was exactly that. For a long time. Now – I’m not so sure. But he gave his life for mine, so I guess that’s all that matters.” He looked away, grateful when their pie finally came.

They ate in silence. It was obvious that Mary had a lot more questions, but even after all these years she somehow seemed to know that even telling her that much had been hard enough for Dean.

 

_Arrived at the headquarters. Sam is fine. I’m going to see Gabriel now and will call you later._

Dean smiled at the message, relieved and happy that Cas thought to write him.

When he looked up, he saw Mary smiling at him. They just got back to the car to drive on.

“Tell me about him.”

Dean took a deep breath. He had told her about Sam for hours in the last days, steering clear from the dark stuff and thus leaving big gaping holes in the tales of their lives. To tell her about Cas – that meant he had to fill those holes. Because Cas had shared all the darkest moments of the last eight years with them – and very few good ones. Mary seemed to know that and maybe she asked about Cas because she wanted to hear the nasty stuff. Because hearing it might be better that imagining it. Dean doubted that but started telling her haltingly nonetheless.

And so they spend the next part of the ride talking. Dean told his mom how Cas rescued him, how he became part of their weird little family, how he fell and got his grace back. How Cas saved him time and time again, how he rebelled and gave up everything for them.

Mary’s eyes grew wide when Dean told her about the leviathan and a bit misty when she heard about purgatory. She gently touched his hand when Dean came to the part where he had to tell Cas he couldn’t stay. Other than little encouraging noises and a shocked gasp now and then, she stayed quiet. They just rode into the town with the werewolf problem when Dean ended his summary of how Chuck and Amara made peace. He fell silent. Mary looked ahead and said nothing for long moments.

“I see. And I guess I owe him an apology.”

They reached a motel, checked in and planned the case without another word on the wayward angel and how irrevocably he had changed the life of Mary’s oldest son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long. August was busy. I try and post another chapter soon. Please let me know if you like where this is going!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concentrates on Dean and Mary. But I will come back to Dean and Cas - soon. I promise.

Dean had just closed his eyes after a long day tracking down hints about the monster they were hunting. A fierce headache began to bloom behind his eyelids. The phone rang.

“Dean?”

“Heya Cas. How’s things over there?”

“Gabriel really is alive. When we fell, a group of Men of Letters found him in a small village in Russia after he had supposedly worked some smaller miracles. There are only a few lines in the files about it but it seems he let candy rain down onto the streets in Siberia.”

Dean chuckled. Oh yes, that had to be Gabriel.

“From what I see, all his personal memories are gone. He still has most of his abilities – he can speak and do simple tasks – and his grace is intact. I have never heard of anything like this.”

“A spell or a curse maybe?”

“I don’t know any kind of magic that’s powerful enough for this. And why would someone do that? They could have killed him. It would have been much more effective.”

“Well, I’m glad they didn’t . I always liked that sassy son of a bitch. Even when he ganked me over a hundred times.”

Dean had told Cas the story about his time at the mystery spot a while ago. From a distance, it DID seem like a rather harmless prank – if one was inclined to compare it to everything else they had to endure since. Sam didn’t seem to share that sentiment, though.

“How’s Sammy holding up?”

“He tries to be civil because he knows how much it means to me, I assume.”

They fell quiet. Dean fidgeted with the worn comforter on the motel bed. Mary was out getting them some sandwiches. Neither of them had wanted to go search for a diner.

Cas’ steady breaths carried over the phone. Somehow that made the distance even more obvious, the silence more pronounced. Dean always felt his absence like somebody had cut out a Cas-shaped space beside him but now it became almost a physical ache. Before he could weigh his words, he murmured, “I miss you”.

Cas sighed. It was a layered sound. Nothing Cas did or said or was simple, so Dean didn’t even try to figure out what made him sigh like this.

“I miss you too”, was what Cas said, and in end, that was all that mattered.

The listened to each other breathing some more, knowing this wasn’t the time or place to talk about _them_ and they were both reluctant to disturb the new-found footing in their weird relationship with discussions about curses and werewolves. When Mary came back a few minutes later, she asked him with her eyes if she should wait outside, but Dean shook his head.

“Goodnight, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning was crisp and cold. Mary wanted to check in with the local wildlife expert who had seen unusual footprints a month back. Dean stopped by the coroner after dropping her off.

He wanted a look at a hiker that had been found mangled after he had gone missing a week ago. This was what brought them to this area. One look at the body and Dean had to smile though: It was maybe the first time in his career as an (impersonating) federal agent that the wounds really fit those made by a mountain lion. He called his mom to tell her, but Mary wasn’t convinced. _There’s something in these woods, Dean. I feel it._

A local drunk had gone missing, too, and his mom was set to find out what happened to him. Larry Harper lived in a small cabin, more of a shack really, in the middle of the woods. When he came by some money he told the barkeeper at the local dive bar stories about the monsters he hunted. Files said he had kids but nobody knew if they lived with him or not. The local police had driven by but nobody had opened the door. Mary was right – they had to at least check.

The met up on the long driveway out to the hunting grounds where a small road led to Harper’s house. When they reached the place, the signs of abandonment and neglect were all over it. Dean prayed that Harper lay in a ditch somewhere sleeping off his hangover while his kids were safe and sound with their mother but he wouldn’t put money on it.

Mary got out of the car, pulled the 45 out of her holster, kicked the safety back and approached the door indicating he should take the back. A big bubble of pride swelled in Dean’s chest: This was his mom! A versed and competent hunter. In the middle of all the crazy that made up his life right now, this was an unexpected but strangely good feeling. He made his way around the back of the ramshackle building, stepping over rusting tires und plywood.

He heard Mary knock and try the door while he found the back door and peeked through it. In the middle of the room stood a maybe ten year old girl with a shotgun pointed at the door. Dean didn’t wait, opened the screen door, cringing at the squeaking, and stood with both hands in the air.

The kid swiveled around, gun and blood shot eyes now directed at Dean. He said in his most reassuring voice,

“My mom will come through that door in a second. We don’t mean any harm and just want to talk. Please don’t shoot, okay?”

The girl nodded but didn’t lower the gun. Mary opened the door, took in the scene and let her gun rest loosely at her side. The girl took five steps back so she could see both of them and beckoned Mary over with the shotgun.

“What do you want”, she croaked.

Dean took in the room with one look. Empty cereal boxes, two bowls, a bottle of coke next to the couch. Something old but not forgotten twisted in his gut. The moldy smell in the air, the wild look in her eyes that darted to a place just left of him – he knew this, all of this.

“We heard your dad went missing and decided to have a look”, he said, straining to make his voice sound controlled and friendly.

“He owing you money or what?”

“No. I… I knew him a long time ago and wanted to say hi while we were in town.” Mary lied through her teeth and Dean almost believed her. “Do you know where he is?” The hand holding up the big gun trembled.

“No, and I don’t care.” She held her head up high, jaw clenched, and Dean felt his molars shutting down in sympathy, felt the rush of defiance she must be feeling and the bone crushing fear that the situation was way too big for her. He closed his eyes to stop the memories from flooding in and to try and concentrate on the task at hand.

“Is there anybody you trust? That you can stay with for a while?” He opened his eyes and met her gaze.

Long moments passed and Dean knew this was some kind of test. This kid only had a shotgun and her intuition. He didn’t move and didn’t hide what he was. The girl took in the knife at his belt, his leather jacket, the olds scars, the worn boots.

When the decision was made, all fight seemed to flow right out of her.

“My aunt Dina. But she lives two states over and I haven’t got a phone and her number.” She looked down at her feet.

“Will you tell your sibling to come out so we can meet them too?” Dean asked.

Her head whipped up, suspicion back with full force. Dean went over to her and sank down to meet her eyes on his level.

“Noone I know would brave two people clearly stronger than themselves if they weren’t protecting someone they loved. We won’t hurt you. But you can’t stay here.”

She nodded, reluctantly. Her eyes flitted back to the corner to her left.

“Come out, Frannie. They’re here to help us”, she said.

A small girl, maybe five, came out of a closet. Her hair was matted and her huge eyes were too bright. She chewed the sleeve of her big sweater while shuffling over to her sister who put an arm around her instantly.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw his mom watching him intently. She took in the whole scene and understanding dawned.

“Dean, why don’t you pack a few things and then we can keep going?” Her tone was soft, but carried a lot of subtle undercurrents. He looked over to the older girl who pointed to the bed. Under it, just like Dean knew there would be, was a packed bag with a few changes of clothes, a knife, a smaller gun and a few candy bars.

Dean was in too much of an emotional turmoil to feel smug about the fact the he knew how the kids of hunters ticked. He took the bag and brought it out to the car. After putting it in the backseat so the girls could see it, he pressed his palms on the hood of the car and leaned forward to heave a few deep breaths. He had only seconds to get himself together. Rustling clothes indicated the others were behind him, so he grabbed the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.

The four hour drive was quiet but for them trying to find out where the aunt lived from the direction the girls gave. They listened to old country songs while the landscape flew by. Dean couldn’t wait to wash the bitter tang at the back of his throat away with half a bottle of cheap whiskey later.

Mary watched Dean the entire time, and when they finally arrived and had cleared everything up with their aunt, she put her arms around both girls, squeezing them tightly and letting her tears soak the dirty hair under her cheek. It was another pair of small shoulders she cried over and they both knew it.

They found the body of Larry two days later. The shotgun his oldest daughter used to fend off monsters and intruders hadn’t been the only one in his possession. He had been dead at least a week, going from the stench. There was a scabbed over werewolf bite on his upper arm. His brains painted the tree behind him.

“Glad you were able to make responsible decisions after all, mate”, Dean murmured while he searched for a place to dig a shallow grave.

The case that wasn’t a case hadn’t been a total bust: They had helped two young girls and Mary had gotten a lot of answers without asking a single question.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some smut! I changed up the rating and added some tags just in case. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This story really is a WIP: I have some rough plot ideas but I'll see where the writing takes me. I'll try to update a bit more regularly. Please let me know what you think.

_Cas, you there? Huh, we still didn’t clear up how this thing works._

_Whatever. I would have called but …_

_Today sucked. I don’t really want to dump this shit on you, you know?_

_Mom… she’s got this picture of me in her head, I can see it. Reminds me a lot of you, way back when you thought I was some kind of hero. But you know me now … and she does not._

_I mean… I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say here ... there’s times in your life, in mine most certainly, when you just can’t believe in yourself anymore. And most people have someone who still does whatever happens. For most people that’s their parents, for Sam I guess it’s me. And I…_

_I thought I didn’t need that. You can’t miss what you can’t have, right? Dean Winchester doesn’t need nobody._

_Well, that was bullshit. And I knew it._

_What I’m getting at here is … you are that person for me now. The one who does the believing in me when I can’t. And Mary, I guess she realized that. I'm not sure you know it, too._

_You’re always there … I said that before._

_You had my back in the shittiest of moments. But there's more to it._

_A_ _nd you’re always right there in the back of my head. When Lucifer had you… I couldn’t even think straight._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you. And I'm glad we ... uhm.. we talked._

_To have you back … having you right there in the parking lot, god, Cas, who would’ve known, huh?_

_And to know that you wanted, all this time, and I was just too damn stupid and a coward. We could’ve had that for years, do you realize that?_

_I should probably stop thinking about it… I really should._

 

 

The phone rang.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, uh, Cas, did you hear all that?” Dean blushed slightly.

“No, you’re too far away and I was occupied with other things. I felt you calling me, though.”

“What’s it like?”

“It’s a tug on my grace. There are different qualities to it that I learned to discern over the years.” He stopped abruptly as if he said something he didn’t want him to know, so Dean asked,

“What qualities.”

Cas’ long inhale indicated that Dean had been spot-on.

“There’s a certain urgency in it when you need my help.”

Was Cas stalling?

“And,” Dean prodded.

“And it feels like sadness when you miss me.”

Dean waited. Another deep inhale.

“And right now, Cas?”

“It’s warm and sad and urgent all at once.”

“Gee, I think I’m a complicated kind of guy”, Dean drawled.

Cas said “Yes,” like that was obvious.

“I was with Sam when you started praying and meant to ignore it until we could talk, but the bond grew stronger and I could no longer concentrate so I went back to my room. Did you need something?”

“Damn right,” Dean murmured – low – and added louder, with unprecedented bravery, “you.”

He heard the rustling of Cas clothes’ and imagined him losing his trench coat and lying back on a bed. Dean ached to have him near right now, to finally find out what Cas was made of under all that fabric.

“Have you touched yourself while praying for me?”

With anyone else, Dean would assume this to be an opener to a filthy role play in which he was about to be punished. With Cas though – he probably just wanted to know, right? There was a slightly condescending note to it though, wasn’t it?

“No, but I was about to.” Dean rushed to say, humming with anticipation where this was going.

“Then do it,” Cas grumbled.

Dean didn’t waste time. His hand went to his jeans instantly, glad he was home again in the privacy of his own room. He palmed his cock through the fabric. The touch was enough to make him fill out.

“Tell me what you thought about before I called.”

“The parking lot. How good it felt to finally be allowed to do that. To know how you taste.” The words spilled out of his mouth, unfiltered.

Dean opened his zipper and the button to relief some of the pressure that build steadily while he remembered Cas pressing up to him at the side of the Impala.

He tugged his boxer briefs just down enough to get better access and began to stroke himself.

“God, Cas, that tongue of yours. To know that you want this… me, too.” He moaned low in his throat, teasing the sensitive skin at the head with his fingertips. Just the thought of putting on a show like this for Cas to actually see was such a major turn-on.

“I just wish you were here,” he bit out, panting from his own ministrations and the desire to feel the touch of another hand.

Cas was clearly affected, too. His harsh breathing carried over the phone.

“Would you do something for me, Cas?”

“Of course.”

Dean felt a warm rush at that, and his heart ached because of all the moments Cas had said those words to him. But now was not the time to dwell on that.

“Do you ever do this when you’re alone?”

“Not since I got my grace back. I tried it a few times because I was curious but if the need arises, I can just turn it off.”

Holy hell, was he really about to ask an angel to jerk off over the phone? Apparently.

“Would you now? Please?”

More rustling and the light squeaking of a mattress could be heard, then a soft moan as Cas got comfortable. Probably naked. Lying there and curling his perfect fingers around a supposedly just as perfect cock. Dean had to grab the base of his own dick to stop the sudden coiling heat that picture caused.

And he had to do it again when he heard the soft sound of flesh on flesh indicating that Cas got serious.

“That’s it. Make yourself feel good for me, okay? Nice and – tight …” Dean stuttered around the words when he started to pump into his own fist again. The first soft gasps from the other side of the line were nearly too much to take.

“Tell me what you feel,” Dean rasped.

“It’s so complex.” Cas’ voice was rough and needy and breathless.

“To stimulate this body that way. The physical reaction, it’s overwhelming sometimes –” Cas’ throaty moan interrupted him. He must have found a sensitive spot. Dean would do anything to watch this right now, but to hear it was just as awesome.

Another gasp. “And then there are the urges that are only in my mind. And they are just as uncontrollable. And confusing… I want to see you content and give you whatever you need.”

“You already do,” Dean groaned. He sped up and fucked his slicked up hand, oozing precome steadily now.

“And I want to be as near to you as possible… touch every part of you with my hands and my mouth and my teeth and my body.”

Dean let his head fall back at that and arched into his hand.

“Yeah? What else, Cas?”

“And then I want things that are wrong and I shouldn’t …” The sounds that came through his phone became downright filthy. Cas was panting and huffing and it was just perfect to hear him losing it, and to lose it with him.

Dean was drunk with desire, so full of affection and the burning need to connect to Cas in every way possible, that he nearly forgot Cas didn’t finish his last sentence.

“What, baby? Anything, tell me.”

“I want … to mark you as mine,” Cas growled, deep and demanding. It went straight to Dean’s dick, which filled out even more and twitched at Cas’ tone. The mere abstract idea of Cas claiming him as his let that well-known coil in his stomach tighten. His balls drew up with anticipation. He tightened his hand and bit his bottom lip hard.

“And I … want you to …”

 “What, Cas?” Dean whimpered with the need to come. Images ran wild in his mind.

What would Cas want him to do? Right now, he could ask for anything. Dean would give it, gladly. The next word wasn't part of that list, though, so he couldn't brace himself for the impact.

“…surrender.”

"Fuck." The coil snapped. Dean cried out. Long stripes of white landed hot on his chest and abdomen. And it fucking didn’t stop. His body jerked with the intensity.

He stroked himself through it. All the while he could still hear Cas.

“You have me, Cas,” he said as soon as he was able to speak again. Dean reveled in the sounds of Cas coming undone even though he was absolutely spent. “Now I wanna hear you. Come for me, baby.”

That was all it took. Cas’ voice broke over a high desperate note when he fell over the edge.

They listened to each other breathing for minutes. Dean waited for anxiety to kick in, for the feeling that this was a mistake and too soon and overall wrong. He knew some of that waited for him later, but for now he felt content and warm and just enjoyed the afterglow.

“Are you alright?” Cas sounded sleepy.

“Surprisingly, yes. I am. You?”

“Very.” Dean smiled at the soft tone in Cas’ voice.

“Talk tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Cas and Gabe are headed back to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this took awfully long. Hope you enjoy!

Dean and Mary set to work early the next day. Sam had sent instructions to make the bunker archangel proof. New sigils had to be painted, a room prepared for Gabriel and while they were at it, they cleaned the other rooms, too.

Dean volunteered to clean the dust out of Cas’ room and spent ten minutes just lying on his bed, breathing in the clean smell of ozone and washing detergent that was just so Cas that his heart ached.

Mary came out of Sam’s room at the same time Dean left Cas’ and squeezed by him, trying and failing to hide her red-rimmed eyes. She had been nervous ever since Sam told them they would head back as soon as possible. Dean felt with her – while Dean and her had a small but strong bond they could use as a foundation for their new relationship, Sam was virtually a stranger to her. A six month old child that she had loved with all her heart and that had no memory of her.

So she busied herself with baking pie and cleaning and rearranging the few knick-knacks that were strewn throughout the bunker again and again. Dean had to forcefully hold his hands to put those things back to where he wanted them. Instead he helped with the pie, drove out to get new eggs and flour and blueberries whenever Mary needed them.

When the big day came, Mary grew quiet and pale. Dean found her in the kitchen, cradling a mug of coffee and staring into space. He went over and put his arms around her a bit awkwardly.

“It’s gonna be fine, mom. You two will get along just perfect, I’m sure. You’ll make fun of me together in no time and do research together and stuff. Don’t worry, okay?”

Mary huffed out an unintelligible response that would proof she was his mom to anyone who still doubted it. Dean smiled and dropped a kiss on her head before he got himself a cup of coffee, too.

Just when he reached the counter, they heard the screech of the front door. Mary looked at him with panic in her eyes. When they reached the hall, Sam, Gabriel and Cas stood at the foot of the stair. No one moved for a good ten seconds.

Then Sam broke into a warm grin and came over to Mary, slinging his long arms around her and burying his face in her hair. Quiet sobs emerged from their embrace and they held onto each other like their life depended on it. Dean’ throat constricted almost painfully and his eyes filled with tears. A hand sank onto his lower back, steadying him. Looking to his left, he saw a big smile on Cas’ face. Behind him, even Gabriel seemed moved.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but I love happy reunions, no matter the occasion!” He clapped with glee.

Sam entangled himself from Mary arms, grinning and sobbing and looking so happy Dean had to go over and hug him, too. “Glad you’re back, Sam,” he murmured.

And then, louder, “Come on in to the kitchen. There’s a truckload of pie you gotta help us with.”

They had thrown the old table out a few days back and carried a big oakwood table into the kitchen to accommodate more people. The dark wooden surface was filled with five different pies, old silverware and china they had found in the depths of the storage rooms. The smell of fresh coffee mingled with the buttery scent of the pie. _Home_ , Dean thought, _this is what home feels like_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting next to Cas on the bench, thighs pressed together, was the best kind of torture. Mary looked over at them at intervals, smiling at Cas. They hadn’t talked about it but they both refrained from any PSA. This was not the time to fill Sam and Gabriel in. And if he was being honest, Dean loved this. While the other talked animatedly about the adventures in London, Dean watched Cas lick the cherry filling from his fingers. Their eyes met for a brief moment but it was enough to make Dean’s stomach flip with anticipation. His right hand sank beneath the table just to lie on Cas’ thigh. The muscle under his palm twitched. From the corner of his eye he saw Cas lick his lips again although the filling was long gone.

Sam was just telling them how he had convinced the British Men of Letters to hand Gabriel over to him – there hadn’t been much resistance because everyone involved had long stopped to see Gabe as a real threat. After that silence fell.

“I’ll show Gabriel his room.”

Cas stood up, not looking back to Dean. Gabriel followed him, clearly confused with the new situation. Dean debated going too. But it would be too suspicious if he followed right now and anyway he was in no shape to stand up now anyway.

 “So, what’s the deal with him?” he asked as soon as their newest guest was out of ear shot.

“We still don’t know for sure.” Sam leaned back and stretched his arms up. The flight and the long ride home in Cas’ poor excuse for a car must have been hell on his back.

“Gabe still has his powers but he barely uses them. We haven’t quite figured out what triggers it. For the most part, he’s quiet and likes to read. Much of the boisterous personality that made him so annoying is gone.”

“Do you know how this happened?” Mary watched Sam intently, clearly set on helping with this project in any way she could.

“Cas said the only beings powerful enough to do something like that to an archangel are god himself and – archangels.”

“Hmm, Chuck wouldn’t have broken his ‘no interference’-rule for that, would he?” Dean replayed Chuck’s speech in his head and winced at the memory.

“Yes, that’s what I thought. Cas … he’s got this theory that Gabriel did it himself.” Sam’s face crunched up the way it always did when he held back something important.

“And why would he think that? What reason would he have to wipe his own memory?” Mary, once she had overcome her initial wariness of Cas, had buried herself in the bunker’s assorted books on angels. A flush creeped up Dean’s neck when he remembered her lecture on wing grooming the other day.

Sam cleared his throat. “Archangels can’t die. Cas reasons this was the next best thing.”

The silence that followed was palpable. Dean closed his eyes. The room started to spin with unbidden memories. _I’m afraid I would kill myself._ Yeah, of course Cas would come to that conclusion. Gabriel had been cast out, shunned by his brothers and sisters and ignored by his father just like Cas.

Dean only realized he had stood up and left the kitchen when he reached Cas’ door. His hand rested on the handle while he leaned his forehead against the battered wood, gulping down air and fighting to bring his emotions back under control.

The door opened and he fell against Cas’ body, reaching blindly for his face.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean couldn’t find his voice around the lump in his throat and the ice cold panic that still clenched his heart. He grabbed Cas’ head and crushed their lips together, desperate to feel warm living skin.

Cas’ didn’t hesitate for long. He closed the door and crowded Dean against it, one hand above his head, the other weaving through the short hair on Dean’s neck and tugging to angle his head. When Dean complied, Cas licked into his mouth with urgent, demanding sounds that Dean felt vibrating through him.

Dean’s head swam with the speed his blood rushed south and fear morphed into want. Cas’ hungry mouth felt so good and he moaned deep in his throat. Why had they waited so long? The wet slide of lips, the rasp of stubble and the filthy sounds they pushed out of each other with tongue and teeth were so much better than anything Dean had ever imagined it to be.

And that was before Cas wedged his knee between Dean’s legs and began grinding against him. The position was far from perfect and denim wasn’t made for this but the feel of Cas’ hard dick on his thigh nearly did Dean in. His head fell back against the door with a thud. Cas seized the opportunity to lick his jaw and up behind his ear. A whimper left Dean’s mouth against his will when Cas bit down on the soft and sensitive skin.

Cas trailed a hand down his front and cupped him through his jeans. The sight of the broad hand covering the bulge and pressing down was too much. “Cas,” he ground out and shuddered through an orgasm he would like to say came out of nowhere. Truth was, he had known this wouldn’t take long. Cas watched him with wide lust blown eyes and captured his mouth again as soon as Dean had somewhat collected himself.

Cas’ hand slid from his neck to his throat and curled into his shirt. Dean nudged his thigh against Cas’ erection, urging him on to grind down on him while Dean let him ravage his mouth. He was utterly spent but seeing Cas losing control like this made his mind melt. It didn’t take long. Cas sighed into his mouth and gripped his hips hard enough to leave bruises.

They stayed like this for minutes, a still life painted in bold brush strokes of urgency and desire: Their hands still fisted in the fabric under them, thighs intertwined, mouths shiny with saliva. Dean hummed contently at the image in his head. There would be time for the finer lines later. Right now the warm reality of Cas’ closeness was everything he wanted.

“Let’s go to bed,” Cas rumbled lazily in his ear.

Who was he to deny an angel’s orders.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunker fluff and a sad conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, the rest of the story is taking shape. There will be three more chapters after this. I'll try to post them as soon as possible. I'm sorry for the overlap with the new season - I really wanted to get this done before 12x01, but it wasn't meant to be. 
> 
> I'm glad that we were gifted with a wonderful hug that Mary witnessed though - just like I had hoped for when I started writing this little series. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos and commenting - that really keeps me going!

Dean woke up curled on his side with Cas‘ body as a solid presence behind him. After the initial burst of disorientation he just lay there, adjusting to the feeling. He wasn’t sure if Cas was sleeping: His grace was back, but was it strong enough that he didn’t need rest?

Cas ate quite regularly now but Dean didn’t know if he had to or if he just acquired a taste for it in the last years. Damn, there was so much he didn’t know about Cas because he never asked. _That’s gotta change_ , he swore himself, and drifts back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, Cas lay on his back so Dean felt slightly cold. Dean rumbled and turned, too, watching Cas’ profile. “Morning,” he whispered, and hell, did that sound insecure.

Cas turned his head and smiled, warm and genuine. “Good, morning, Dean.”

“So did you sleep well? Uhm, I mean, did you sleep at all?” Cas smiled again at that.

“I sleep when I have the opportunity to. I don’t have to necessarily now, but I enjoy it. And to answer your first question, yes, I did sleep well. Sharing a bed feels very nice.”

Dean huffed. _Nice_ , _you just wait what else we can do here besides sleeping_ , he thought. His stomach growled a second later and busted his plan to introduce Cas to some of his ideas. He leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Cas’ cheek and stood up. Good thing he had managed a quick shower last night before falling into bed and losing consciousness seconds later.

“You still have the stack of clothes I gave you?”

Cas nodded and pointed at the top drawer.

Dean pulled two pairs of sweatpants out and threw one of them on the bed for Cas. Next came two comfy t-shirts. Even if Sam wouldn’t see them sneaking out of Cas’ room he might get suspicious when they both came to the kitchen for breakfast in Dean’s old clothes. But that couldn’t be helped and Dean would have to talk to his brother about this someday if he wanted or not.

 

He left Cas to dress and went to the kitchen where he found Gabe and Mary puttering away. From the smells alone he concluded that this would be the most delicious breakfast the bunker had ever seen. Sausages were sizzling in a pan, pancakes staked high on plate drowning in syrup waited on the table. Fresh fruit and jam and cheese and bread filled every inch of the surface. Dean grinned at the display and slipped into his usual seat.

His mom and the archangel obviously got along just fine, working like a well-oiled machine. Sam and Cas shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later and stared wide eyed at the spectacle. With a shrug Sam caught himself, went over to Mary and hugged her just for the sake of it. Dean met Cas’ gaze and found the same pure joy in there that he felt right now. Maybe their life would go to shit again in no time but this – this he would cherish while it lasted.

 

“I have never eaten so much in my life,” Dean groaned.

“Not sure about that,” Sam replied, “but this comes close.”

They sat around the table, patting their bellies and smiling at each other. They had complimented Gabe and Mary on the food which really was delicious.

Sam got up first. He wanted to check the bunker’s library for hints how to reverse Gabe’s spell. Cas and Gabriel were next – Cas had promised to tell his older brother about their shared past. Dean stayed behind with Mary. She smiled her warm smile at him and took his hand.

“You seem happy.”

“I am. God, I don’t even remember the last time I could honestly say that.” He squeezed her hand to indicate that she played a huge part in this.

“So you and Cas are… together now?”

“Guess so. It’s still kinda fresh and weird. I didn’t tell Sam yet.”

“I understand. I won’t tell him. Take your time. But I’m glad that you have someone. I mean it. He – he seems like he genuinely cares for you.”

“Thank you, mom. That means a lot.”

He got up. “I’ll do the dishes. Are you helping Sam with research?”

“Thank you, honey. Yes, I’ll see what I can do.”

 

He found Cas in his room a few hours later. He lay on the bed, a thoughtful look on his face, hands spread on the comforter.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean went over and lay down next to Cas who shuffled to his side. Dean seized the opportunity to get lost in those eyes for a few minutes. Hey, he could do that now, so he might as well make use of that. Then he cleared his throat and his gaze drifted away. “So, I wanted to ask you something. It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

He practically felt Cas lifting an eyebrow and that look had a way to short circuit his brain, but he tampered down the sudden spike of arousal.

“Uhm, it’s just. What happened to your wings, Cas?”

“They burned when I fell.” His voice was flat, his gaze unwavering. Dean couldn’t imagine how devastating that loss must have been.

“And now they’re gone?” Dean asked around the sudden lump in his throat.

“No, but they are damaged beyond repair.”

“Would you… can I see them?”

Cas turned away, crossing his arm over his chest and taking a deep breath. “I’d rather not be reminded of it.” He closed his eyes. “But it’s too late for that now anyways, isn’t it?”

He turned and lay down on his stomach in one swift motion. “You’ll only see shadows. I can’t materialize them anymore,” he murmured, again without any infliction. Dean gulped down the sudden fear that this was too much, that he was asking too much, but the air already hummed with electricity. Seconds later, Cas’ wings appeared.

Dean stared at the black shadows in front of him. Large chunks were missing, the position all wrong.

“Oh Cas.”

“You wanted to see it. I know it must be an upsetting view, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” He reached out through the wavering image and put his hand soothingly on Cas’ back. The image flickered and died but it had been burned into Dean’s memory. When he touched the spots where the wings had met Cas’ back, the skin under his hands jumped. Cas heaved a deep breath and shuddered. Dean moved his palms over Cas’ back, trying to convey with touch what he couldn’t put into words. His regret, his worry and his guilt.

Soon he replaced his hands with his lips. He kissed Cas’ shoulder blades through the cotton of his shirt and the knobs of his spine until he reached his neck to whisper: “I’m so sorry” in Cas’ ear. That would never be enough but somehow it was, because Cas sighed and simply let go. Dean had never seen him cry and Cas was so quiet about it that he nearly missed the tears silently sliding through dark lashes. Dean’s heart broke with it.

Unable to do anything else, he pulled Cas into a tight embrace, murmuring soft reassurances that were both meaningless and the most important things Dean had ever said. Cas lay in his arms and mourned his losses. Cas had been right - they could be someone who made them happy for each other - but they could be this too: Someone who didn't flinch away from their sadness.

They fell asleep completely clothed, Cas' face squished into Dean’s chest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spell, a decision and some sexy times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll and hope to get the last two chapters done this week. Please let me know what you think.

The next morning found Dean draped all over Cas’ body, a thigh wedged between his legs, painfully aware of both their cocks obviously interested in some action. Dean moved his hips experimentally, gasping at the friction. Cas answered with a slow roll of his pelvis against Dean’s stomach. Okay, so this was on.

Dean looked up and grinned at Cas’ disheveled appearance before he slid up his body and dived in for a sloppy kiss. When he moved again, Cas gasped and took over the kiss with more vigor. Pleasure zinged through Dean’s blood and made his skin tingle. He could get used to starting his days like this.

They made out for a while, losing their shirts and exploring skin. Dean would have been content with just this. Cas. On the other hand, grew restless. Clearly impatient with the slow progress Cas turned them around and hovered over Dean with dark eyes and wet pink lips as if he had just stepped out of Dean’s most cherished fantasies.

Cas’ determination to get this going clashed with the lack of experience how to exactly do that, Dean presumed. God thing one of them had a plan. Never leaving his gaze, Dean opened Cas’ pants and pulled them down. His hands worked surprisingly sure and steady when he went for his own zipper next. He tugged on Cas’s hip to get him into position before he wrapped his hand around both of them. Cas hissed and broke eye contact to look down with something ridiculously close to awe on his face.

Dean set up a slow pace. He loved the feeling of skin in skin, the closeness and yes, that trickle of surprise on Cas’ face was a bonus. Seeing Cas come undone let his dick twitch and leak. The easy glide pulled out moan right out of his lungs. Cas looked back up and stopped the proceedings with a quick kiss before he came back to his previous position and started to experiment with downright sinful rolls of his hips. Cas might be new to this – shy he was not. His right hand went to Dean’s neck, cradling his face and stroking his thumb over Dean’s lips.

Dean urged Cas on with his own hips and saw something flash deep in his eyes when he picked up speed. There was the other being that was Cas, too, that ancient warrior that had pledged himself to Dean, that had let him tend to his broken wings only hours ago. It moved behind those dark blue irises, and some primal part of Dean’s brain told him _danger_.

He tried to close his eyes or look away, because this was overwhelming and in moments like this he still didn’t understand why Cas fell and stayed. But Cas held his gaze – gently but determined – while their pleasure built and the sheer impossibility of their connection crashed down on Dean. He choked out a broken moan when Cas tensed and spilled over his hand and stomach, marking him. Dean’s world narrowed down to the flickering light in Cas’ eyes. Unable not to, he followed.

 

 

“Why are you doing this,” Dean asked while he watched Gabe prepare breakfast. Mary had gone out with Sam before the sun was up to hunt down a book in a small town somewhere in Nebraska.

“I don’t want to eat oatmeal every day.” Gabriel leaned against the counter with a big bowl in his right hand, expertly whipping up an omelet.

“No, I mean, can’t you just – I dunno – zap it into existence? Why bother using your hands?”

“It doesn’t work like that. I mean I know it used to be ordinary for me to use my power for whatever I wanted, but now … I still have that power but it’s … unconscious in a way. When it happens, I don’t think, I just want something so much that this barrier is broken.” Gabe stared into the bowl as if he tried to access his powers right now. “It only happened twice: When I saw these kids in Siberia and had the sudden urge to make them smile. I lost consciousness right after and woke up in the care of the librarians.”

“And the second time?”

“Martha, the woman who cleaned the cells, took out the trash and changed our sheets, told me her husband was sick. Next thing I know there’s a woman in a white coat leaning over me and taking my pulse.”

“So, what – you get the urge to perform a miracle and it happens?” Dean scoffed to gloss over how intrigued he was.

“Hell, how should I know? Like I said, it’s not like I _decide_ to do good. It just happens. And to be honest, I don’t even know if it worked the second time. Never saw Martha again.”

Gabe turned his back to heat a pan and pour the eggs in. Dean tried to reconcile this information with the sassy pain-in-the-ass angel he knew. This somehow was still Gabriel, but Dean wasn’t sure if the new layers were caused by the spell or if they had been there the whole time.

 

 

Sam and Mary were back by evening. They went to work right away and dived into the extensive storage units of the bunker searching for ingredients. The old grimoire they had found contained a section about amnesia and spells to bring back memories. Sam felt confident that he could make one of the spells work for angels too by enhancing its power – if it would work on an archangel he couldn’t say.

Just as Dean had predicted, Sam and Mary got along very well. Mary seemed impressed and proud that Sam handled the research so professionally. And she was clearly happy that she could do something to help. They fell into an easy pattern, working hand in hand and getting to know each other without pressure.

Two hours later they assembled in the dungeon around a large sigil on the floor. The corners were marked with small brass plates that held different herbs: Sage for cleaning, thyme for … something else. Dean already forgot. He had no problem deciding which one of those herbs would go best with lamb chops (thyme of course, sage corresponded better with pork) but he couldn’t for the life of him remember their witchy uses. Good thing Sam’s big moose brain saved those bits of information like a sponge.

Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, while Sam and Cas recited passages in Latin and Enochian. Something worked alright, because the light flickered and a breeze that had no right to be there drafted through the room. The plates holding the herbs started smoking. And then –

Nothing.

“Do you feel anything?” Dean asked Gabriel.

Gabriel shook his head.

“Maybe the position …,” Sam murmured, but Gabriel interrupted him.

“Guys, I really appreciate this, but to be honest, I …” he looked at Cas as if asking for support. Then he heaved a deep breath.

“I don’t want my memory back. From what I heard, I’ve been a dick most of the time. And I’m sure I had my reasons to wipe my own mind.”

He stepped out of the sigil, and the tension left his shoulders.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me to stay, I get that I have no right asking for your help. But I assure you that I won’t hurt anybody. I don’t want any part in the angels and demons business, just a quiet life.”

Sam squared his shoulders. Everyone in the room knew that the final verdict was his. Sam had taken the brunt of Gabriel’s cruel pranks over the last ten years and Dean would honor whatever he decided.

“You can stay. For now. Let’s say we give it a month and then we’ll talk again.”

Gabe watched Sam intently before he nodded.

“Deal.”

 

 

Dinner was late that day and consisted of leftovers. They were all quiet, clearly pondering Gabe’s decision and Sam’s invitation to live with them. It was Mary’s idea to watch a movie together and everybody seemed grateful for the distraction. And so two angels and three hunters settled into the big couches in the living room behind the thick walls of a demon proof bunker to watch Monster Inc.

Dean leaned his shoulder against Cas’ and watched him laugh. That bubbly feeling in his stomach must be happiness, he thought, when he met Sam’s inquisitive gaze. Alright, it was time to fill his brother in. Tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally fills Sam in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life happened.

 

The next afternoon Dean took two beers out of the fridge and hunted Sam down in the living room.

“Wanna go outside?”

Sam looked up with a puzzled expression. He should know Dean well enough to not question the invitation. Dean didn’t wait for Sam reaching that conclusion on his own though, just turned around and crossed the hall with long determined strides.

 

They met outside on the bench they had put up in a sunny corner a short walk from the bunker entrance. Summer had long given way to autumn but the sun was still strong enough to keep them warm without thick jackets. Dean opened the bottles and handed one to Sam before he took a swig to steel himself.

Sam waited. The last year had taught him patience, Dean thought. Long gone were the days when his little brother probed and prodded until Dean let something slip. Sam had learned that Dean would come around to talking to him eventually, but hated being pressured into it. They had found a new kind of balance and Dean was glad about it. It didn’t change the fact that these kinds of talks still made him anxious as hell.

“So Cas and I…” he started and fiddled with his beer. God, you should think this would be easier as soon as you reached your mid-thirties and survived an apocalypse or two.

“Yeah?” So Sam wasn’t willing to help him out. Okay.

“I… never told you that, but I… I’m really into women, you know, but sometimes …”

“Jesus, Dean, are you telling me you’re bi?” Sam gripped his heart and went totally overboard with his fake surprise. Asshole.

“You knew?” Dean looked over and managed a crooked smile while he prayed that Sam would not torture him with this longer than absolutely necessary. Sam’s grin turned soft. Thank god this kid had such a big heart and let Dean off the hook way faster than Dean would have. Sam bumped his shoulder and took a swig.

“Of course. And everyone and their grandmother knows that there’s something between you and Cas. It’s been there from day one. Like a freaking romance novel – well, except for the blood and the monsters and the gore I guess.”

Dean felt red creep up his neck. “Hey, no way we were THAT obvious.”

Sam chuckled. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. I just – ah – wanted you to know that it’s a thing now. With me and him.” That earned him an honest to god pat on the back and another one of these fuzzy smiles.

“I’m glad, Dean. I mean it.”

Grumbling something unintelligible, Dean closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun. He hadn’t noticed that special weight on his shoulders until Sam had taken it away. Having his mom doubt Cas and their connection was one thing. Sam not accepting and supporting him would have been unbearable.

 

They finished their beers in silence and watched the sun go down before they headed back. The unmistakable smell of roasted chicken greeted them. Dean met Cas halfway to the kitchen, pulled him into his arms and smacked a wet kiss on his half open mouth.

“Does this mean you told your brother?”

Sam nodded and clapped Cas on the back. “Yeah. Congrats. But guys, keep down the PDA to a minimum, okay?”

Dean dived in to snatch another kiss, mumbling “Can’t promise that.” Sam just groaned and wiggled past them to the kitchen. _This_ , Dean thought, _went rather well_.

 

Once they had the hallway to themselves, they made out some more, working up to a lazy kind of arousal that wouldn’t lead anywhere but felt nice nonetheless. Dean pulled Cas closer and fit his palms under Cas’ shoulder blades in that special way he liked. Cas’ eyes went dark and a nearly imperceptible glint told Dean that they should stop before this spiraled out of control.

Dean had learned in the last few days about this very fine line. You should think a being like Cas would be the epitome of control, that earthly desires and carnal instincts were so far below a creature of heaven that he didn’t even acknowledge it. Well, guess what? It wasn’t. And come to think of it – control over his emotions had never been Cas’ strong suit. See defying heaven because Dean asked him to and other instances.

 

So now Dean knew just how short-lived Cas’ patience was when they were together. It shouldn’t surprise him really, since Cas had to make up for millennia of abstinence whereas Dean had only had to go through a drought for a few years. As if Cas read his thoughts, the hand that wasn’t buried in the short strands of his hair trailed down Dean’s front with determination.

“Okay, time to slow down,” Dean gasped and untangled himself from Cas’ insistent hands.

Cas bowed his head and whispered “I wish I could just zap us somewhere else.”

 

A loud thump sounded through the hall. Gabriel’s limp body lay in the doorway to the kitchen, still clasping a rag and looking ridiculously domestic with the brand new bright red apron Mary had bought for him.

Sam and Mary came running out of the kitchen to investigate and found Dean bent over Gabe who still seemed out of it. “What happened?” Mary asked, and Dean – unable to express his tumbling thoughts just yet – shrugged.

 

They brought Gabriel to his room and Cas tried to wake him up again, but without success. He could determine that Gabe was okay, though, just unconscious. Sam and Mary stared muttering questions and theories about what might have happened, paying no attention to Cas and Dean. If they had, they would have seen a slow smile on Cas’ face and his fingertips slowly reaching over to Dean before both men disappeared.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas have a little time for themselves.

The first thing Dean registers is WHITE. Blazing whiteness. When his eyes adjust he makes out a wide glass front that frames a breathtaking panorama of the sea. White sand stretches into both directions, gently sloping down into an ocean so blue Dean starts wondering if this is even a real place. The room they stand in feels like a natural extension of the outside, all white and soft blue pastels and wooden furniture.

He doesn’t trust his voice yet, just takes in his surroundings. After a while he asks, “Where are we?”

“Does it matter? Do you like it?” Castiel doesn’t look at the ocean. He watches Dean.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” This was everything the bunker was not and Dean guesses that made Cas choose the place. Dean had spoken longingly about a beach vacation often enough to leave a hint.

“What about Gabe?” Dean asks.

Cas blinks and the image of him wavers. “He just woke up and asked what I was still doing there.”

“So – he did it?”

Cas grins. “Yes, he did.”

 

 

The turn to each other at the same time and Dean has only seconds to admire the new shade of blue the soft light brings out in Cas’ eyes before their lips meet. Dean’s skin tingles where his body meets Cas’ and the glow around them flares. Grace. So much grace. Dean’s sure he can taste Cas’ euphoria in his kiss.

Cas’ mouth is urgent and demanding and when he licks Dean’s lips open, they both groan. Dean grabs the fabric in front of him, to keep himself upright or to strip Cas out of it or both. Coherent thoughts float to the back of his mind with every stroke of Cas’ tongue against his own, against his teeth and the sensitive roof of his mouth.

The feeling of the mattress under him is the first clue that Cas has changed their position. His shirt is shoved down his arms and Dean whines when Cas leans back for precious seconds to take care of the next layers. Undershirt, jeans and boxer briefs, boots, socks.

Dean sprawls flushed and naked, feeling exposed and a bit proud for having put that look of utter need on a seraph’s face. Cas might use mojo to get out of his own clothes – nobody should be able to shed them that fast. And then his mouth is back, his searing skin covering Dean from head to toe. If someone will ask him one day what he wants his heaven to be like, he’ll say this.this.this.

Cas growls something unintelligible into his neck when their cocks slide together for the first time. “I want you,” Dean murmurs, and Cas looks up to meet his eyes. They haven’t talked about this and Dean sure as hell doesn’t want to now. So he holds Cas’ hungry gaze and widens his legs to accommodate Cas’ body. And if the crushing grip on Dean’s hip and the way the last sliver around Cas’ irises gets swallowed by dark want is any indication, Cas knows exactly what Dean isn’t saying here.

“Are you sure?” Cas is looking positively debauched and alien, hair standing up in fifty different directions, skin red and glowing faintly. Dean nods and tucks him down to his mouth again, filthily dragging his spit-slick lips along Cas’ jaw. The trademark _flap_ that indicates the opening of a bottle of lube is nearly drowned out by the sounds of skin on cotton and their ragged breathing.

It’s been a while since Dean has done this. But hey, it’s been a while since he had sex at all. Over the years he had lost the ability to connect with strangers enough for one night to feel _enough_. Or maybe he had learned to see the distant desperation in their eyes that he was sure shone out of his own. Or maybe it had just been Cas, crawling his way into Dean’s subconscious and redecorating the place to his liking.

Cas’ wet hand on his cock brings Dean back to the here and now, rough and tight and nothing like the fumbling virgin Dean had once imagined him to be. When he seems satisfied with Dean’s reaction – no, he did _not_ whimper – the hand slides down, leaving a cooling trail on Dean’s skin. Dean swears he can feel every ridge and bump of Cas’ index finger breaching him, owning his body in the best of ways. He arches up against Cas’ chest, and clutches at his back with trembling hands.

“Show me, I wanna see them,” he gasps.

Cas closes his eyes in concentration – and then they’re there. Iridescent, pearly grey and white.

 

 

The room is vast but Cas’ wings span it from wall to wall. Dean reaches out and strokes the soft feathers. He always imagined them to be black, – which is dumb and he knows that – but somehow this fits too. He knows he should be freaked out but this is _Cas_ just like the head tilt and the trench coat, maybe even more so. Cas moans when Dean buries his fingertips in soft down, and then he mirrors the motion inside of Dean.

They may have all the time in the world and Dean sure as hell will find out every single spot on those wings that leave Cas shaking later but Dean _wants_. _now_. He rocks back on Cas’ hand, urging him to fuck him open with two, three fingers. Cas is magnificent, towering over Dean and punching throaty moans out of him with determination in his eyes. The thought that Cas could do this for hours without breaking a sweat, reducing Dean to a babbling mess, should NOT turn him on so much, but god, it does. His dick is leaking steadily onto his stomach by now and Cas’ stare zeroes in on that before dipping lower and focusing on his fingers vanishing in Dean’s body.

“If you don’t get with the program soon, this will be over before we started,” Dean grounds out and Cas’ head snaps back up. His eyes never leave Dean’s when he slips out his fingers and methodically lubes up his cock. Dean sees desire in that blue depths, the flicker of age and otherness that still makes his heart skip a beat and a raw need to connect that echoes deep in his own soul. Strong hands grip his thighs and bend them up, laying him bare for Cas to take.

Cas doesn’t hesitate and pushes in with one long thrust. They both grunt with the intensity of it and stay still for a second just to catch their breath, before Cas pulls back to repeat the motion. It’s glorious. Dean hangs on, gipping handfuls of feathers and digs into the skin beneath them to see Cas’ face go slack with pleasure. The steady rhythm falters and transforms into urgent thrusts that Dean meets with his whole body.

Cas’ hands are hot on his skin, inhumanly so. When Dean looks down he sees Cas’ palm flare with grace and without thinking he grates out, “Put it back, Cas.”

Cas is too far gone to pretend he doesn’t know what Dean means and too far gone to pretend this isn’t what he wants. Lying would be useless anyway: Dean can feel Cas’ cock swell and kick deep inside him and he clenches involuntarily in response.

Dean’s low “please” seals the deal. Cas puts his hand on Dean’s heart and burns his white-hot sign into his skin while he thrusts deep and comes with a broken scream. There has to be a line here between pleasure and pain, between desire and awe, Dean thinks hazily, but he’s lost sight of it. What’s left is something _more_. That's what they’ve always been – more. Cas is marking him – inside and out – and Dean can do nothing but hold on and shatter. His whole body seizes up and he comes so hard he might black out for a second. Cas’ lifts his hand to look at the mark, already cooling and healing up, before he crashes his mouth to Dean’s again.

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Halloween came around a few weeks later. They had settled into an easy routine. Mary went out hunting a lot by herself, to get a feel for the job without Sam and Dean looking over her shoulder the whole time. She had tried taking Gabe with her, but a bunch of demons had been on their heels only hours later. Nothing like the power of an archangel to lure out all kinds of nasty things. Gabe seemed okay with staying behind though. He dug into the bunker’s library with the same gusto he applied to his culinary adventures and helped the hunter’s out with info whenever he was needed.

The main room of the bunker looked like an old Addams’s family movie set. Faux spider webs hung from the ceiling and adorned every surface. Candles and ghost shaped lights were glowing everywhere. Sam and Mary had carved a dozen pumpkins that sat on the stairs, solemnly watching over the proceedings.

Gabe ran to and fro from the kitchen to bring Chili and bread and dips to the huge table. Nobody had dared question his Thor costume, complete with hammer and blond hairpiece. Dean wasn’t sure yet if Gabe remembered his 1000 year intermezzo in the role of Loki and – subsequently – if Gabe had chosen this costume as an in-joke or because his new self genuinely liked Thor.

Mary helped laying out the table. She looked positively badass in her General Leia Organa outfit. Dean was a bit jealous – for her, the memory of episode IV to VI had still been fresh when they had seen the new movie last week.

Sam – for being such a nerd – was lazy when it came to Halloween. He had invested in a pair of moose antlers and left it at that. Dean just snatched one of the bright orange muffins and stuffed it in his mouth when Cas came into the room. Dean knew it was cheesy but he couldn’t regret his choice to talk Cas into dressing up as each other. While Dean began to sweat under the tan trench coat and itched to loosen the blue tie, the sight of Cas stole his breath away. Man, he should wear plaid more often. And the way Dean’s old and faded jeans hugged his ass wasn’t half bad either. There was just something about his partner wearing his clothes that made Dean’s skin tingle with possessiveness and want.

“Hey handsome, looking mighty fine,” he drawled, sneaking his arm around Cas’ waist. They sat down around the table, smiling at each other and the feast in front of them. Only Gabe was missing, still carrying stuff over. Sam looked around with his big trademark grin and mumbled: “Guys, I wish Charlie could see this, she’d …”, and stopped abruptly when the clatter of a metal plate on tile echoed through the hallway.

Seems like we have to bring another chair, Dean thought, and ran over to wait for Gabe to wake up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!!! This is my first multi chapter fic and I'm so happy that I finished it. Thanks to all of you who left kudos and took the time to write a comment and/or subscribed - I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten through this without your feedback and encouragement. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and if you want to, come over to [tumblr ](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/)and meet me there.


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